


blueprints

by Nicoleks



Series: rooms [1]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Kara's POV, Moments, POV Second Person, Romance, light angst (very minimal though)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 02:42:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14761062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicoleks/pseuds/Nicoleks
Summary: "You spend the next half hour kissing your girlfriend on the bathroom floor like the heat of her mouth will be enough to sustain you for the rest of your life. You think it just might be."Fleeting moments between Cat and Kara that all take place in Cat's home.





	blueprints

**_Living room_ **

You run your fingertips over the spines of the books, the titles ranging from classic literature to science fiction to modern romance.

The ceiling-to-floor bookcase stretches across half of one wall and is filled to the brim with books on everything and nothing, a large section clearly reserved just for comic books (Carter’s, you assume) and a small section in the bottom corner stuffed with CatCo magazines old and new. There’s even an aging hardcover on camping in the Sierras that sticks out like a sore thumb right between a Jane Austen and a small paperback on the history of 18th century philosophy.

You’ve never been in her home before and it’s nothing like you had expected. There’s a designer jacket strewn over the back of the couch behind you and two video game controllers tangled together on the coffee table next to an empty mug. The air around you is warm, but not stuffy, the lighting dim and soft above you.

You’re surprised, and admittedly delighted, by just how homey it all is. But then, you know Cat has always kept her soft heart hidden behind steel armor. 

“Learning all my secrets, Kiera?”

Quickly turning, you spot Cat entering from the hallway, arms crossed over her chest, eyes mirthful. She’s still wearing her black pencil skirt and white blouse from work earlier that day, but she’s barefoot and has two extra buttons undone, and you can’t help but swallow a lump in your throat at the sight.

“Just looking at all of your books and stuff,” you smile easily, lifting a hand to adjust your glasses. You reach out and pull down the camping book before turning back to face her, an eyebrow raised and your lips stretching upward as you hold the book up with one hand, “I didn’t exactly take you for the camping type, Ms. Grant.”

The words are more playful, more _flirty_ , than you had intended, but you think you may be just a little bit high off of being in her space like this, surrounded by the smell of her perfume, surrounded by _her_.

Cat rolls her eyes and walks slowly toward you, her hips swaying deliberately, _deliciously_ , with every step.

“Carter found that at a used bookstore a few weeks ago and has been begging me to take him camping ever since,” she stops a few inches away from you and reaches to take the book from your hand, her fingers brushing yours for just a moment too long, “But I told him we would need to do _much_ more research than simply reading this old thing before doing any such thing,” she shrugs, “So, we’re working towards it slowly.”

“He’s never been camping before?” you ask in surprise, the flirting momentarily forgotten at Cat’s admission.

Cat smiles with something like a small sadness and shakes her head, “I don’t think I have to tell _you_ that I’m not the outdoorsy type, and Carter’s father is who _he_ is, so no, Carter has never been before.”

“Oh, he _has_ to have his first experience camping on the beach,” you grin and repress the urge to bounce in place as you recount your own memories, “When we were teenagers, my sister and I went camping on this one beach near Midvale that was right beneath a flight path and we stayed up super late just listening to the waves and watching the planes fly by, and it was so much fun!” you exclaim, “We _have_ to take him sometime!”

You stop short as soon as the words pass your lips and your eyes widen as you sputter out, “I- I mean, _you_ should take him, obviously, not- not _us_ , because he’s your kid, of course, and-" 

“ _Kara_ ,” Cat interrupts abruptly and you finally stop your ramblings to find her lightly smirking at you, “I’m sure Carter would love it if you mentioned this idea to him,” she rolls her eyes and feigns irritation. “Hell, I’ll probably hear about nothing else for _weeks_ once you suggest it to him.”

Cat leans in even closer to you than necessary as she places the book back in its place on the shelf, her blonde curls falling forward to frame her face, green eyes bright with something like a _dare_ , and your eyes drift down to her lips as she moves even closer.

The two of you have been dancing around this, whatever _this_ is, for months now, and you think finally being here in her home, her space, has given you the confidence boost needed to maybe, finally move things forward. And you think Cat knows what she’s doing, too, because tonight she had invited you over, _to work on layouts_ , she had said, even though there you knew the layouts for the next issue of the magazine were borderline flawless. You both knew it was a ruse, and not a very clever one by Cat Grant standards.

But that doesn’t matter.

Because now she’s here, close enough to breathe in, close enough to press your lips against hers and take her into your arms. And the air around you is _warm_ and charged and all too comfortable, and you’re not drunk on her, no, drunk would imply an impairment and right now you’re anything _but_ impaired. You’re steady and grounded as you dare to grab her hand and lace your fingers together, pull her close and closer still until your lips meet and, for the first time, everything seems to instantly settle. Cat’s lips are warm and her mouth opens slightly to grant you entry, and as you kiss her harder, you know this is only the beginning.

* * *

 

**_Bathroom_ **

You walk in to find shattered glass glittering on the pristine white tiled floor of the bathroom. You’re relieved that there’s no blood in sight, that she didn’t cut herself on any of the glass, but you’re scared for her nonetheless. It’s a stark contrast to the last time the two of you were in here only a few days ago, when you'd both overslept and had spent the morning rushing to get dressed for work; you had taken a quick shower, while she stood at the sink and applied her mascara in front of the mirror, and you'd been struck by just how domestic and easy the scene was that you swore you'd commit it to memory forever.

You quickly shake your head of the thoughts and get back to the matter at hand.

Cat is sitting on the floor next to the sink with her head leaning back against the wall, eyes shut tightly, dried tears staining her cheeks. She looks small, smaller than you’ve ever seen her before, and you kneel in front of her hesitantly, pushing some of the glass shards further away from her with your hand.

“Cat, are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened?” you ask firmly, but softly, still on high alert from hearing her cries all the way across the city. You had been patrolling above the buildings when you heard the glass shatter followed closely by Cat’s sobs, and it had taken only a second’s worth of hesitation before you were racing towards her penthouse.

She shakes her head and sits up straighter and you pick up the strong smell of alcohol coming from her person. You look her over with your x-ray vision and breathe a sigh of relief when you confirm she’s not physically hurt.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she finally responds stubbornly, “Go home, Supergirl.”

You shake your head and sit on the floor in front of her, mirroring her position with your knees bent, and you hear a few pieces of stray glass crack beneath your weight but you pay it no mind. Hesitantly, you reach up and pull your cape free from your shoulders before scooting forward a few inches until you can carefully drape it around Cat’s shoulders and arms.

She sniffles at the gesture and wipes a stray tear, blatantly refusing to look you in the eye. You know better than to rush her, so you sit there in silence for a few seconds and just watch her closely. 

After a minute of quiet has passed, Cat pulls her knees close to her chest and wraps her arms around her legs and murmurs, “My mother gave me that for my birthday last year. She’s not exactly subtle with her hints,” she nods towards the far end of the bathroom where a black glass weight scale sits next to the shower. You’ve seen it before, of course, but you hadn’t thought much of it until now.

You scoff and shake your head, “Your mother is an asshole, Cat.”

But it all clicks together then. Cat had a dinner to attend earlier that night, something businessy she had said without giving you details. 

“You had dinner with your mom tonight,” you state. It’s not a question, but she nods in response anyways as she takes a slow, deep breath in.

The two of you have been together for a few months now, but the only one who knows so far is Carter. You want to shout it from the tallest rooftops in National City, but you’re always terrified of losing someone else you love, so you’ve been letting Cat take the lead and set the pace. 

Cat shifts her weight, but stays silent, her breathing very obviously labored. You don’t need superpowers to know that she’s been drinking her sorrows away.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask quietly, your voice echoing off the walls.

Cat rolls her eyes and pushes back her unruly blonde waves, green eyes red and glistening.

“It’s no big deal, Supergirl,” she sniffles, “Don’t you have a kitten up a tree to save or something?”

Her words don’t hold much bite and you know this tell all too well. This isn’t the first time she’s tried to push you away and you’re almost certain it won’t be the last, but you also know the difference between you and all the others she’s successfully pushed away is that you would never walk away from this, would never let her push you too far to come back.

“Tell me what happened, sweetness,” you coax softly, using the pet name you’d first called her while sitting back to front in the bathtub a few feet away from you, the same pet name that has never failed to make her give a signature eye roll and put a tiny amused smile on her lips.

Now she rolls her eyes, but doesn’t smile.

“Are you ashamed of us?” she asks abruptly, intense eyes finally meeting yours, back straightening stiffly against the wall behind her. Your eyebrows shoot upwards in surprise, mouth gaping as you exhale sharply.

“What do you- I- of course not!” you sputter in complete disbelief, “What would make you think that? Did I- Have I done something wrong?”

Your incredulousness quickly turns to worry as you start to think back over the past few seemingly magical months, but all your memories must be encased in rose gold glass because you can’t pinpoint an instance that would lead Cat to the thought that you could ever be ashamed of her.

“While my _mother_ ,” her lips curl around the word distastefully, “was picking apart every aspect of my life tonight, she had the audacity to throw my past two marriages in my face,” she shakes her head and looks off to the side again, breaking the eye contact you’d been maintaining. “She insinuated that I don’t know how to keep a family together. Maybe she’s right because it doesn’t seem that you want this thing between us to go any further.”

“Okay, hold on,” you cut her off as you shift in place awkwardly, boots scuffing against the tiled floor, “We’ve told your son about us, I spend nearly all of my free time here, heck, we’re planning a surprise trip to Disney for Carter’s birthday together,” you reach out and place a hand on Cat’s bent knee, rubbing up and down the side of her leg soothingly, “Why would you think I’m not serious about us?”

“You don’t want to tell your sister about us,” Cat snaps matter-of-factly and it all clicks into place.

Relief floods through you and you can’t help but give a small, amused smile as you laugh gently, “That’s what this is about?” you push yourself off the floor enough to maneuver yourself so you’re sitting next to her, “Why didn’t you just say something, sweetness?”

This time Cat does smile, so you wrap an arm around her shoulders on top of your cape that’s snuggly draped around her. She mumbles, “Your sister is the most important person in your life, I assume that if you wanted the two of us to meet, you would’ve mentioned it to me first.”

“Of course I want Alex to meet you, and to meet Carter, but I know family can be kind of a sensitive issue for both of us and I didn’t want to rush you,” you explain gently, careful as ever with Cat’s heart.

Cat pauses a beat, then leans into your embrace, placing her palm against your abdomen to grasp at your suit and hold there tightly, “Well then, I suppose...that takes care of that issue,” she lets out a deep sigh, warm breath breezing against your jaw, “I’m sorry, I just- When my mother began prattling on about how she always expected that by now I would have the picture perfect family with a husband and a child, all I wanted was to tell her about how happy you and I and Carter are, about how much you’ve helped my relationship with Adam, but then I remembered that I couldn’t,” she licks her lips as she trails off and you lean in to press a quick kiss against her cheek.

“Cat, you could have told her, you have to know I wouldn’t have minded. I mean, of course my sister and Carter should be the first ones we tell, but I don’t care who knows about our relationship.”

A pensive look crosses Cat’s features and you know her mind is now hard at work because while you meant every word you said, you also know things won’t be that simple; Alex is overprotective and there’s HR to deal with at work and potential media attention and it could all very easily turn into a huge mess. But something in you tells you it’ll all work out anyways. Maybe it’s that overly optimistic Sunny Danvers personality that Cat is always teasing you about, but Alex wants you to be happy and you’d gladly quit your job at CatCo if given the ultimatum between work and Cat, and you know that J’onn would be willing to help you put any rumors about Kara Danvers being Supergirl to rest.

You’ll do anything to keep the privilege of being with Cat Grant. 

“How about,” you lean in further and begin placing soft, open mouthed kisses against that spot just below Cat’s ear that never fails to make her melt, “I go call my sister and set up dinner for the four of us tomorrow night, and then you and I head off to bed?”

“Bed first, then make the phone call,” she coaxes your face up with a finger beneath your chin and you follow her lead.

You spend the next half hour kissing your girlfriend on the bathroom floor like the heat of her mouth will be enough to sustain you for the rest of your life.

You think it just might be.

* * *

 

**_Kitchen_ **

It all feels like a haze, but whether it’s a haze borne of anger or desperation, you’re not sure. You think it might be a combination of the two, though.

Your hands are resting flat on the marble island counter, your entire body shaking with anger and guilt and leftover adrenaline. You’re angry at yourself, at your sister, at J’onn and the DEO, angry at your parents for ever sending you to this planet in the first place.

The pale lights above the stove are turned on, but only because they must’ve been left on some time earlier that day. Neither you nor Cat cared enough to notice much about your surroundings when you both stormed into the penthouse, and Carter has been left in Alex’s care for the night, a huge step in your’s and Cat’s relationship that at any other time would’ve made your heart sing.

“I cannot _believe_ you did that, Cat, do you know how stupid and _dangerous_ that was?” you grit out, your eyes welling with tears of frustration.

Cat is standing on the opposite side of the counter, arms crossed over her chest petulantly.

“Well, your government employers were more than fine with my plan and it worked, didn't it?” she rolls her eyes dramatically in that way only Cat Grant can manage, and any other time you would find it endearing, but you’re too upset to feel anything but anger.

“I don't care that it worked and _believe_ me, the DEO will be hearing from me too, but it was _your_ idea and it was _you_ who was put in danger,” you clench your hands into fists to keep from pressing too hard into the counter and breaking it. “What were you thinking?” you ask in desperation, the air around you feeling more sweltering by the second.

“I was thinking that I would do anything to save you, darling, and I know you would do the same for me,” she murmurs, defenses dropping and muscles visibly losing their tension.

And that’s just it. _You would do the same for me._ But you would never need to do the same for Cat, because this would never happen to Cat. Maybe you’re oversimplifying, but Cat would never be a threat to you the way you are to her. Cat can hurt you with words, can break your heart and destroy you emotionally, but there’s no red kryptonite for humans, nothing that can turn her into a monster the way it has happened to you.

“How are you not understanding this, Cat? You- You could have- I could have _killed_ you,” you shake your head before pressing your fists against your eyes, the anger fading into pure guilt.

“Oh, darling,” Cat quickly comes around the counter to take you into her arms, and you can’t resist folding into her, your face pressing into her neck as your hands wrap around her back. The tears are coming in full force now as she strokes your hair softly before whispering near your ear, “I trust you implicitly, my love, and I know for a fact that you would never do anything to hurt me, Kara.”

You pull away from Cat completely and run a shaky hand through your dirty hair, eyes looking anywhere but at her. Like everything else in the penthouse, Cat’s kitchen is spacious and sleek, with espresso cabinets and white marble countertops and there’s a part of you that thinks you shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be invading her space and her life like this.

Another glance at the island counter has you imagining Carter sitting there in an all black suit, eyes red and swollen from crying and a lack of sleep, coming to terms with his mother’s dea-

“We never should’ve started this relationship, Cat, not after the first red kryptonite incident,” your voice cracks as you speak, shaking the morbid images from your mind, and your head is practically throbbing now, and you still can’t look at her. 

“Darling, no-” 

“Don’t do that, Cat, don’t try to convince me it was no big deal,” you cut off Cat’s soft whisper, turning to face her head on, “Some z-list villain cooks up another batch of red kryptonite and uses it on me, and what does my girlfriend do, despite the fact that I threw her off a freaking _building_ last time? She uses herself as bait to lure me out!” you exclaim and you see the determination in Cat’s eyes harden and her slim frame stiffen almost imperceptibly.

“Kara, you may turn into quite the delinquent when you’re affected by red kryptonite, but you do not have an evil bone in your body,” she quickly steps up to you and takes your face in her hands, “I knew that you wouldn’t hurt me, that’s why I suggested it to Alex in the first place. Besides, it’s not so different from when I lured out Leslie,” she rolls her eyes at that and you lift a hand to gently press her palm tighter against your cheek. 

“That’s wasn’t the same thing, Cat,” you murmur, exhaustion settling in deep. “I was there to protect you when it was Leslie. This time- This time I was the thing you needed protection _from_.”

Your eyes well up again but before she can speak, you add, “Cat, you could- you should be with someone normal, someone who can share the life you worked so hard for, who can share all of this,” you gesture around the room, “with you and Carter, without you guys having to worry about your safety. I put you both in danger in so many ways…” you trail off, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Kara, I have never needed protection from you,” she states adamantly with utmost conviction, “Just tell me how I can help you forgive yourself, darling, and I will.”

You glance around again and let the thickness of the air permeate your senses for a moment before answering with a newfound conviction of your own, “The DEO stores kryptonite just in case of emergencies involving rogue Kryptonians or Fort Rozz escapees, and I know Alex has access to the storage unit where it’s kept. I want you to keep kryptonite in the house for the next time something like this happens, to protect yourself from me.”

Cat raises an eyebrow and presses her lips into a straight line for a moment. You can practically see the wheels in her head turning and you know what her answer will be, but you’re just so tired and it all makes you feel so much worse. She’s the one who could’ve been hurt or killed, yet here she is comforting you, just like last time. _Last time._ Because there was a last time. Now there’s a second time. And there’s no guarantee there won’t be a third time, or a fourth.

“I know you feel afraid and guilty, and I know your feelings are running so deep that it feels all consuming right now,” Cat moves further into your space, her hands never straying from your overheated skin as she brushes some of the dirt from your brow, “But you need to trust that I don’t need the kryptonite. If you can’t trust yourself just yet, Kara, then at least know that I have enough trust in the depth of your goodness for both of us.”

You feel sick to your stomach and she keeps saying your name like it holds some kind of weight and you think the world might be spinning too fast beneath your feet and for a second it’s all too much, you’re too overwhelmed and you think maybe flying away and holing yourself up in some middle-of-nowhere bunker would be best for everyone involved.

But those dark green eyes are staring at you with something indecipherable, and you can feel it in the way she rubs a thumb against your cheekbone and presses her body against yours that she won’t let you go that easily. 

As terrified as you are, you really don’t want to let go, either. So you lean in and capture her lips with yours, desperately, needily, and you swear every inch of you is burning as she takes your bottom lip between her mouth and softly bites down.

You think you see the stove light flicker from the corner of your eye, but it might just be your eyelid fluttering shut.

* * *

 

**_Office_ **

You know the sound of Cat’s heartbeat all too well by now, especially since you’ve been living together almost a year now. Cat’s heartbeat has always been strong and low, the product of years of early morning runs and late night yoga on sleepless nights. Carter’s heartbeat, on the other hand, is light and swift, the way a young teenager’s healthy heart should sound. And it’s the sound of his heartbeat coming from Cat’s home office that leads you in there late one night, when Cat is stuck at CatCo dealing with business issues far beyond your capabilities.

You push the door open quietly and lean against the doorway, brow furrowed slightly in worry as you take in the young boy’s slight form hunched over his mother’s desk, reading a book you recognize instantly under the light of the small desk lamp. 

“Hey,” you murmur softly, not moving from your position in the doorway.

Carter startles in Cat’s large swivel-chair and closes the book quickly before realizing it’s just you. He glances up and smiles softly, curly hair falling over his forehead messily.

“Hey, Kara,” he pauses and looks around as if suddenly remembering where they are, “Um, I was just-” he stutters out, frowning now, “Please don’t tell my mom I was in here?”

You frown slightly and tilt your head in confusion.

“Carter, you know that your mom would never mind you being in here,” you nod at the book laying open on the desk in front of him to change the subject and hopefully put the boy at ease, “Reading some of your mom’s early stuff, huh?”

You know all of Cat’s books, have a few practically memorized, and the one sitting in front of Carter is definitely a personal favorite; _The Conviction_ , a nonfiction crime book about an abused woman’s wrongful conviction that Cat investigated when she was in her late 20’s and still forging her journalism career.

You remember being completely enthralled by the book and by Cat’s prose, by her attention to detail, remember that late night in your old apartment searching for jobs online when you spotted the opening for a position as assistant to Cat Grant herself. You had taken one glance at _The Conviction_ laying on your nightstand, pages stained with water droplets from the times you’d been too absorbed to put the book down even while brushing your teeth, and you knew instantly that you couldn't pass up the opportunity. That same night, you’d spent hours into the early morning obsessively editing your resume until it was perfect.

Carter’s response brings you back to the present when he nods and says, “I’ve read it before, I’m not sure why but I just felt like reading it again.”

You give a warm smile and move further into the office until you’re standing by the desk in front of him.

The room is sleek and modern, with two large desktop monitors on top of the white wooden desk, the wall behind Carter a deep dark grey instead of the eggshell white of the CatCo office that you’re so accustomed to. In all honesty, the first time you’d stepped into this room, you thought it looked more like the office of a Silicon Valley programmer than a journalist slash business mogul. But then, Cat has always been full of surprises, has always managed to catch you off guard when you least expect it.

You think it must give the boy comfort, being surrounded by his mother’s presence in a room that holds so much of Cat’s soul and ambition, the same way that on Krypton you would wander into your own mother’s study and curl up on her lap on that uncomfortable white sofa while she worked late into the night when you were a child.

“Are you feeling nervous about going to your dad’s for the week?” you ask hesitantly, hoping that he won’t take your concern as an intrusion. 

Carter’s relationship with his father has always been tenuous at best, Cat’s ex-husband now a largely distant figure in both of their lives. From what Cat has told you, he’s a decent man, but he had never felt fit to be a father and thought it best to take a hands-off approach to raising Carter, providing the boy with lavish gifts in the mail and paying the entirety of his private school payments, but only seeing his son a few times a year, if that.

“Not really,” he shrugs after too long a pause. You give him a look that says _spill it_ and he continues with a huff, “Okay, I guess I’m kinda nervous or whatever. I mean, mom’s practically sending me away to live with a stranger for a week.”

Carter slumps down sullenly, resting his head in his hand as he rests his elbow on the arm of the chair.

At thirteen years old, he’s the same age you were when you’d been sent to Earth from your dying home and you can sympathize with the boy well. You love your sister and you love the Danvers with everything in you, but it had still felt like abandonment when Kal had given you up to them. You’ve since pushed those feelings to the edges of your heart because Kal is almost too good a person and he had been young when you’d arrived, too young to know how to care for you properly and you know he’d only done what he thought was best for you.

But every time he had visited you growing up had been full of awkward lulls in conversation and shy glances, both of you strangers to each other in almost every way when all you wanted was someone to share in your Kryptonian heritage, someone familiar.

Sometimes when you look at Carter, you think he might be looking for someone familiar, too.

“Hey, look at me,” you walk around the desk and kneel down so you’re at eye level in front of him. “Your mom is not ‘sending’ you anywhere,” you smile softly as he looks away timidly and begins to fiddle with the computer mouse on the desk, “Your dad just wants to spend time with you because he hasn’t seen you in a while, buddy. So really, it’s all your fault for being such an adorable kid, your family just can’t get enough of you.”

You reach out and exaggeratedly ruffle his hair in that way you know embarrasses all teenagers and it gets the desired reaction as he rolls his eyes and swats your hand away with a short laugh.

The joy is short-lived, though.

“He doesn’t seem to want anything to do with me the other 51 weeks of the years, why bother for this one week all of a sudden?” he mumbles, kicking the heel of his foot softly against the wooden floor, eyes downcast.

“Sometimes people do what they think is best for their loved ones, but-,” you sigh and shake your head, not wanting to complicate his feelings further, but wanting to offer the young boy some sort of comfort, “Sometimes their best ends up hurting us without them even knowing it and- and we just need to realize that their choices aren't on us and we need to figure out how to move on from that hurt they accidentally caused.”

You trail off and give an awkward half shrug, losing whatever was left of the confidence you had at the start of this conversation.

Carter looks at you with knowing eyes and you can feel an undercurrent of understanding pass between the two of you as he quietly asks, “So my dad stays away from me because he loves me? How does that make any sense?”

You pause for a second and briefly think of your mother, your father, Astra, Kal-El, all the people who’d only acted on what they thought was best for someone else, on what they thought was simply the right thing to do.

You shrug again, “I honestly don’t know, Carter. I _wish_ I knew. Maybe he doesn’t think he’s cut out to be a good dad or maybe he’s just scared because he’s stayed away for so long that now he doesn’t know how to change things and be in your life more,” you smile apologetically, “At least, um, that's what I think might- I mean, I don't know. I’m sorry I don’t have better advice or insight to give you.” 

You fiddle with your glasses, adjusting their position on your nose needlessly. To your surprise, though, Carter only shakes his head and flashes you a real smile as he leans forward in the chair and throws his arms around your neck tightly. You hesitate for a second in surprise before hugging the boy back, one hand rubbing his upper back in what you hope is a comforting gesture.

“Don’t be sorry,” he murmurs as you bring a hand up to cradle the back of his curly hair. He pauses a moment then adds, “You’re good at being a mom.”

With that, he pulls away and stands up, leaving you stunned in place as he rushes out of the room. You swear you felt your heart lurch in your chest at his words. You stand for a moment only to collapse back down into Cat’s chair, a grin overtaking your face, eyes watery. 

In the background, you faintly register the sounds of Cat unlocking the front door, her heels hitting the ground haphazardly in the foyer, her greeting to Carter and slight admonishment at the boy still being awake at this late hour. You finally come to your senses, though, when you hear bare feet padding down the hallway as Cat calls your name out questioningly before coming to a halt at the open doorway of her home office.

“Oh, there you are, Kara, what are you doing in here?” she asks in confusion as she rounds the desk and easily makes herself comfortable in your lap. Your arms instinctively wrap around her thin waist, the satin of her work blouse especially soft against your sensitive skin, while her hands rest on your shoulders. 

You glance at her lips and lean in for a quick, soft kiss, careful to keep your fingers from digging in to her waist too hard as you grasp at her, and when you pull away, she looks at you with a curious expression on her features.

“Okay, what happened?” she asks, her investigative instincts clearly kicking in.

“Nothing bad,” you promise with a wide smile, “Carter was in here reading and he was feeling nervous about seeing his dad again and, I don’t know, I guess I just comforted him?” you stumble out, the words suddenly escaping you.

Cat simply looks at you like she knows there’s more to the story; she’s always been able to read you like an open book. You’ve never been able to hide anything from her, nor would you want to ever again.  

“And what exactly did he say to put you in such a giddy mood?” she asks. “When I walked in here, you were grinning like you’d been offered an endless supply of potstickers.”

“He, um,” you clear your throat, the happiness fading slightly at the sudden fear that Cat might think you’re overstepping your boundaries with Carter. Before the fear can root itself too deep, she begins playing with the hair at the nape of your neck soothingly and you draw strength from her touch. “He told me I’m good at being a mom,” you shrug too casually.

“Oh,” she lets out a slow breath, green eyes focused on a spot on the keyboard in front of you both. You know she’s gathering her thoughts, her emotions, you know better than to push her into talking before she’s ready, so you simply pull her back into you, tuck her head beneath your chin, and hold her there.

“Are you...okay? I mean, is that okay with you that he said that?” you ask, not wanting to push, but wanting to at least know she’s not upset with you.

“Of course, darling,” she responds instantly, arms tightening around you, “I should be the one asking you that. I know you're young and you didn’t sign up for this, so if he made you uncomfortable, I can speak with-”

“No, don’t do that, please,” you rush out in slight panic, “I mean, I’m- I’m really okay with it. If you are too, of course. I would never want to overstep or anything when it comes to Carter.”

“You’re not overstepping anything, Kara,” Cat keeps her face pressed against you and you think it makes the emotional implications of this conversation easier for her to handle right now. “I mean, I suppose if Carter has gotten so attached to you that he thinks of you as a mother figure, then perhaps we should soon talk about the seriousness of our relationship and where we’re headed as a couple.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, we could do that,” you grin like a schoolgirl, despite the fact that she can’t see it. You know she can feel the happiness radiating through you, though; you’ve always been in tune like that. “I can tell you right now, though, on my end it’s looking pretty serious, so I hope you’re ready to be putting up with my alien butt for a lot longer,” you tease, wanting to take away any lingering worries she may have about your intentions for the future.

You feel Cat press her lips to your collarbone, you can feel the hopeful smile on her face and warm breath on the hollow of your neck. You can imagine spending the rest of your nights just like this, with Cat on your lap in the soft light of her office, the soft whirring of the wind outside the partially open window a few feet away, the distant sound of Carter turning the page of a comic book in his room, even though he’s supposed to be sound asleep.   

“It’s pretty serious for me too, darling.”

* * *

 

**_Bedroom_ **

“Are you finished yet?”

“Not yet, Cat, just hold still a sec. Y’know, for someone who spent years building a media empire, I would think you’d have a little more patience than this,” you giggle, the gleeful smile on your lips so wide it might hurt if you weren’t a superpowered alien. 

“Well, for someone who possesses superspeed, _I_ would think you would be able to move a bit quicker than this, Kara,” she rolls her eyes, the edges of a smirk playing at her lips despite the irritation dripping from her tone.

You set the paintbrush down and tilt your head as you examine your work. You hear Cat chuckle at you, but you pay her no mind. The canvas isn’t too big, standing at sixteen inches in height, but in all honesty you don’t think there’s a canvas on this planet large enough to adequately capture all of the details of the gorgeous woman in front of you. But staring at the portrait before you, you think you’ve managed to capture how you see her well enough.

With a glance over at Cat, you can’t fight the heat that rises up your chest and leaves your cheeks dusted pink, nor would you ever want to fight it. She’s laying on the bed, arms above her head and crossed at the wrists, wrapped in nothing but a dark blue satin sheet that perfectly contrasts her milky skin. Blonde hair is messily strewn over the pillow, face free of makeup, her goddess-like features almost too much for you to stand. 

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with me taking my time last night,” your voice comes out lower than you had intended and you see a slight shiver run through Cat’s body as she licks her lips, the memory echoing through both of you.

“Yes, well,” she clears her throat and you can see her pressing her thighs together beneath the sheets, “We both know that last night was much more... _hands on_ than this, darling.”

You raise an eyebrow playfully at her, then turn back to examine your work once more. The colors are vibrant, the shading accentuating the curves of Cat’s body beneath blue satin. It’s not perfect, but then you know you’d be sat here for eternity if you kept chasing perfection.

“I guess you can come see it now,” you huff, running a hand through your hair.

You watch Cat push herself up in bed and gather the sheets around her naked body, her blonde hair messy and unkempt in that adorable way you love, the way it always is on those weekend mornings when you get to sleep in without interruptions from Supergirl duties or CatCo emergencies. It reminds you of hands tangled in hair and backs arching off the bed and kissing up her lithe body, pausing at her ribcage just beneath her breast, leaving soft bites that eventually turn to hickeys in your wake.

You clear your throat to bring yourself back down, eyes never leaving the woman now standing a few feet away.

Cat lets out a chuckle as she peers back at you, “Darling, you know you’re staring at me with that goofy look on your face that our son always makes fun of you for.”

 _Our son._ The words still don’t escape you unnoticed, and you don’t think they’ll ever fail to make your heart skip a few beats.  

It had been in that same room that you had first called Carter your son, and much by accident too. 

Cat had been getting ready for a Saturday work brunch with a few other elite businesswomen of National City, while Carter had been yet to return home from his very first sleepover with a friend from school. You were over the moon with joy for the shy young boy, but still, there were no major crimes to be stopped that day and there was a two-player video game still wrapped in plastic on the living room coffee table just waiting to be opened. 

So, as Cat knelt by the bedside nightstand to tug on her heels, you had flopped down on the bed with an exaggerated pout as you exclaimed without thinking, _"When is our son getting home already? I’m bored, I need someone to play with."_

It had taken a few seconds to realize your slip up, but before you could stammer out a wide-eyed apology, Cat had leaned down and pressed a loving kiss to your lips, and with glossy eyes, she had responded half-jokingly,  _"Don't worry, darling, you'll have your little buddy back soon enough."_

And ever since, the feeling had slowly solidified between you, Cat, and Carter that you were Carter’s other mother, and he was your son. The thought of that day always puts a watery smile on your face, blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears of joy.

You’re smiling like that when you suddenly feel Cat’s arms wrap around your neck from behind and you think if you were human, she would’ve knocked you off balance on the stool you’re sitting on.

“What do you mean the look that ‘he’ makes fun of me for? You _both_ like to make fun of me for being a sap,” you pout exaggeratedly.

She places a finger beneath your chin and turns your head towards her so she can kiss you softly, tongues meeting and breath mingling. After a few glorious moments of kissing, she pulls away to rest her chin on your shoulder as you both turn back to look at the painting. Cat’s chest is pressing against your back and you can feel her quick intake of breath as she takes in the finished product before her. You’ve drawn Cat more times than you can count, but this is the first time you’ve put her image on a canvas like this and the intimacy surrounding you both is palpable. 

“Wow,” Cat breathes out, the awe clear in her voice, “Kara, I knew you were something of an artist, but I didn’t know you were capable of something like this.”

“You like it, then?” you blush, a sudden shyness taking over. “I know you were hesitant to let me paint you at first, but-”

“I love it,” she kisses you again, harder this time in that way that leaves no doubt that tonight she’ll show you just how much she loves the painting. “Sometimes it’s hard for me to believe you actually see me this way,” she whispers and you think it might’ve been more to herself than you, but you’ve always been quick to quell her insecurities.

“What way is that? Gorgeous? Headstrong? Brilliant? Ethereal?” you turn your face towards hers to look her in the eye so she knows that despite your teasing tone, you’re one hundred percent serious.

“Oh, shut up,” she laughs, swatting at your arm from behind.

“I’ve always seen you like this, Cat. You’ve always been the human embodiment of everything good in this universe and every other one, even when you try so hard to hide behind snark and sarcasm.”

She reaches up to tuck a stray strand of wavy blonde hair behind her ear as she murmurs, “Yes, well, I think it’s safe to say you’re quite biased, darling.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you shake your head, “My bias doesn’t make it any less true, sweetness.”

Cat rolls her eyes with a smile, as always with that petname, but she doesn’t say anything else as you both just bask in each other’s warmth. You glance around the room, the evidence of a life lived all around you; your spare Supergirl suit peeking out from where it hangs in the closet, her tablet on the nightstand, your first front page CatCo news story framed on the wall right next to the article that won Cat her first Pulitzer Prize. You remember her telling you about how her ex-husband, Carter’s father, had never understand why Cat wanted to display the work that won her the prize rather than the prize itself, hadn’t understood why she’d put up a piece of newspaper in the bedroom of all places.

But you understood.

Cat had her empire, had a myriad of successes, but Cat wanted her first big decoration in journalism to belong to her and her loved ones, wanted the work she’d done to speak for itself. You understood because you feel the way about being Supergirl; you don’t want a key to the city or a statue in your likeness, you just want to know that the little girl who gets caught in the crossfire of rogue aliens or bank robbers, or any other danger, gets to go home safe and sound to her family that night. Any accolades are just a small bonus in the grand scheme of things, but sometimes you think Cat is the greatest gift you could’ve been given by a universe that’s taken so much from you.

“So, does this count as an early wedding present?”

You grin at the question and turn around on your stool to face your fiancée completely. You put your hands on her waist and pull her into the space between your legs, her lithe frame standing taller than you for once.

“It could be if you want it to,” you tug her down closer until you can press your lips to hers, taking her bottom lip between both of yours to nip gently. After a minute, you pull back enough to mumble against her mouth, “And in return, maybe you could finally show me your wedding dress?”

“Nice try, Supergirl,” she taps a palm against your cheek playfully, smirking down at you, “We may be an unconventional couple, but one tradition we will definitely be following is no seeing the dresses until we’re walking towards each other down the aisle.”

Cat shifts her weight and leans into you until she’s hugging you like she’s trying to keep you from leaving. You wrap your own arms around her back and hug her to you, letting the feel of her flood through your senses. From over her shoulder, you glance down at your own hand where the diamond ring is fitted comfortably around the third finger of your left hand. You tighten your hug almost imperceptibly, always careful with your strength when it comes to the people you love, but you know she can feel it, know she’ll remember it same as you.

And you think you’ll remember it well.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this was a long one, so if you made it this far thank you for reading and I'd love to hear what you think in the comments! I've been working on this one for what feels like forever so I'm really glad to finally be sharing it with you all, and again thanks for reading xx


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